The Reborn Princess of Oz
by Sikon
Summary: Six years after the Battle of the Emerald City, the Wizard still cannot forgive himself for Theodora's corruption. Bridging the gap between the movie and the Baum books - and featuring a new origin for a character from book canon!
1. The Witch's True Nature

**THE REBORN PRINCESS OF OZ**

**1. The Witch's True Nature**

In his tent, deep in the forest, Oz leaned over the battle plans.

He was a somewhat older man now, though of course, he would not allow just anyone to see him – not since, in the Battle of the Emerald City, he made his own subjects believe he "transcended his mortal shell". For six years he had to support this deception now, in front of everyone but his most trusted aides, to the point that his old life was being slowly forgotten.

His outfit had changed, too. The worn black suit was gone, and now he was wearing a royal gown of deep green, sewn with thick golden threads and littered with emeralds, head to toe. His top hat was likewise replaced by a turban of the same green color, custom sewn for him

The Wizard's finger traced an arrow on the map, leading from the Emerald City to a creepy, pointy-looking castle in the west, painted solid black. He crossed out some of the routes and was about to draw another arrow when a familiar short old man entered the tent.

"General Knuck reporting, sir!" he said, saluting proudly.

Oz turned around in his chair. "How's the battle going?"

"As expected, the Winkies are retreating and not putting up much resistance. A ragtag army of peasants, just like ours... with all due respect, sir." Knuck made a valiant effort to smile, but seeing it fail, instead put the smiling mask over his comically stern face. "A few wounded on both sides, but no deaths."

"Excellent. The Witch should show herself soon." Oz casually crossed his legs, opening a small cut in the fabric of the side of the tent. "Master Tinker, is everything ready?"

The tall bearded man on the other side nodded, showing his hand ready to pull a lever.

"On we go. Action!"

A pillar of smoke erupted from the tent, high into the air, higher than the trees; and the Wizard's face appeared on the ball of smoke, assuming a mocking expression – turned towards the Witch, flying above her demoralized yellow-coated soldiers on her broom.

"Theodora! Never again shall you oppress the Winkie Country!" His amplified voice roared menacingly, just in the over-the-top, theatrical fashion that the Wizard desired. "For I, the Great and Powerful Oz, have come to put an end to your tyranny, and finish what I started by casting you out of the Emerald City!"

The Wicked Witch turned her broom around, froze in the air, and shook her fist angrily. Moving her hands close together, she shot fireball after fireball at the ghostly head floating in the sky – without success, of course. Her face showed increasingly deeper rage as it became evident she could not harm "the Wizard," only managing to set the boughs of some trees on fire. Finally, losing her patience, she clung to her broom and flew through the image of the head at high speed, black smoke erupting behind her...

Just as Oz wanted.

The moment the Witch flew into the smoke, two little men hidden in the leaves of treetops, all at once, threw golden-threaded lassoes over her arms. Bound by the wrists, the Witch attempted to summon yet another fireball – only to see the fire fizzle out and dissipate between her fingers. She dropped her broom, which landed a small clearing among the trees – and fell down after it, herself.

Lying on her stomach, defeated, she looked up from the ground. Glinda was standing before her, her face as calm as ever. Showing no signs of glee or sense of triumph in her eyes – if anything, they showed sadness – the fair sorceress bent down and picked up the ropes binding the Witch, tugging on them gently.

"Don't worry, sister. And don't try to fight back my wards. It'll be over soon."

"You..." The Witch's eyes flashed with fire as she stood up, casting a piercing gaze at the serene Glinda. "This is so like you. Hiding behind your precious Wizard, coming here to gloat when he's done all the dirty work for you!"

"Calm down, Theodora." Glinda sighed, pulling the ropes as she led the Witch to Oz's tent. "What I'm doing is only in your best interest – you're my sister, and I mean you no harm."

"_You_ don't, sure." The Witch bared her teeth. "You don't kill, I know. You only surround yourself with those who do – and that, in your eyes, is somehow better?"

"_I_ shall not kill you either!" the Wizard's booming voice suddenly intervened, seemingly coming from all directions at once.

The Witch froze at the tent's entrance, looking frantically inside and outside – searching for the source of the disembodied voice. "Where are you?!"

"I am everywhere!" the voice declared smugly. "I am Oz, the Great and Terrible! I can see everything and take any form! Even, if I so desire..." Suddenly a carpet on the tent's floor sprung up, forming a wall, and when it dropped back down, the Wizard himself was standing behind it, finishing in his real, human voice, "...the form of my former mortal shell."

The Witch grimaced in hatred and horror, pointing her thin angled finger at Oz. "You... you broke my heart, you stole my fair form and turned me into _this_... You cast me out and deprived me of everything I cared for – and that's not enough for you, still! What do you want from me, _now_?"

"Nothing. I was unfair with you, Theodora, and even if it was you who chose to continue down this wicked path..." The Wizard sighed. "It was me who pushed you onto it, and for that I'm sorry. I'm here to make amends. To help you."

"Help me?! Tying me up, taking me prisoner – that counts as help for you?"

"Theodora... I lied you about my feelings, but you were my friend, once. The old, fair you. I only want to bring her back."

"Against my will! I've seen how you and your lackeys do your 'good', Wizard. A rule built on lies, manipulation, and branding as evil everyone who disagrees with you! If that's good, then being evil in this world is the lesser evil!"

"I see you won't yield." The Wizard's smile suddenly vanished. He turned to Glinda, accepting the Wicked Witch's bonds from her, and added quietly, "Do your thing."

"If I must."

Glinda raised her wand above her head, its diamond tip shining. Dense mist enveloped the floor of the tent, spreading from its corners and running up the Witch's legs, making her face visibly cringe from pain.

"Good witches don't deal with deception and illusions," Glinda said quietly. "We dispel them. We return the natural order – return things to how they should be. Theodora, my sister!" she raised her voice. "You fell under Evanora's sway – but no more! I cast off your twisted, rotten shell! Witness the purity of your heart, and be yourself!"

The mists, steadily climbing up the Witch's body, reached her head, hiding her fully in the cloud. A brief flash of blinding white light illuminated the tent –

– and faded, just as suddenly as it lit.

The mists violently flied apart, revealing the Wicked Witch's even more hideous form. Her skin was covered with cracks, red tongues of flame bursting out of them. Her pointed hat, too, caught fire and rapidly burned, falling off her head and igniting the grass. Underneath is there was a cap of solid gold, with a ring of diamonds and rubies encircling the Witch's head.

"Oh no..." Glinda gasped, lowering her wand and taking a step back.

"What is it?" asked the Wizard.

"Sorcery even beyond my control. Run!"

Grabbing Oz's wrist, Glinda pulled him out of the tent – just before its roof caught fire, as well. The roof collapsed – and revealed the Witch, standing in the middle of the tent's remains, burning whole, like a living torch.

"To think you forced me to resort to this, Wizard. Winged Monkeys! Your mistress calls!"

Oz blinked, taking Glinda's hand. "...What?"

That very instant, something dark rose from behind the farthest trees, blocking the sun for a moment. _It_ approached swiftly, appearing at first to be a thick cloud, then a flock of – birds? No, giant monkeys with sturdy bird wings, much like Finley, but larger, descending towards the forest clearing where Oz and Glinda stood.

"Take these ropes off me!" the Witch yelled, the flames over her body receding and once again showing her green skin, now looking unharmed. "Repel these intruders! Push them out of my kingdom!"

And as she spoke, a smaller monkey flew from behind the Wizard's back, cutting the knots on the Witch's wrists with a small knife. Oz recognized this hat-wearing monkey in an instant – how couldn't he? – and was all the more shocked by it.

"Finley?!"

"I'm sorry, old friend." The little monkey flew up to join the flock, with a saddened, pained face. "The magic of the Golden Cap is more powerful than even my oath to you. Perhaps when the Witch is defeated, we'll meet again..."

"Curses!" The Wizard looked around, feeling defeated, watching as the Wicked Witch's broom, lying on the ground, flew to her hand – and she took off, disappearing in the sky, gloating. He saw the Winged Monkeys descend on his Munchkin and Quadling troops, grabbing them from behind, then rising to drop them from great heights. He shuddered – and turned to Glinda, who looked similarly horrified.

"I'm sorry, Oscar," she said. "This is power I cannot stand against."

In rage, Oz tore his turban off his head, stomping it into the ground. Rushing to the burned remains of the tent, he picked up a megaphone – one of the few things that, being made of metal, survived intact – and shouted, turning towards the scene of the battle:

"General Knuck! Retreat!"

* * *

"...I don't understand."

In a small, cozy side room in the Emerald City palace, Glinda paced around the armchair the Wizard was sitting on with his chin on his palms, lost in thought. Glinda's hair was messed up and her dress stained and rumpled – the first time in six years Oz saw her look anything but perfectly tidy.

"The Golden Cap I at least _can_ understand... I just didn't expect something like this to fall into her hands. The good news is that it only works three times per person – so she only has at most two uses left. Maybe only one – I suspect that's how she took over the Winkie Country in the first place. But we've lost too many soldiers even now... And she has no shortage of servants to command the Cap in her name."

"So she's unbeatable? Why doesn't she try to reclaim the Emerald City?"

"Oh, but I think you have yourself and your tricks to thank for that." Glinda smiled grimly. "Everything wicked in the Land of Oz is too terrified now to move directly against the Great Wizard. But that's not what worries me. It's that we failed to... to..."

"To bring Theodora back," finished the Wizard.

"_That's_ what really worries me," Glinda said quietly. "If it _was_ Theodora – if she was merely disfigured by grief – then my spell would have worked. But... this creature... You've seen it. She's not even a woman of flesh and blood anymore, and even Evanora couldn't have done this on her own. Body of flame, fueled by pure rage... It's like her living soul was torn out. This cannot be my sister!"

"So... Theodora is already dead? And all these years, I planned... I _hoped_!"

"I'm afraid so," said Glinda. "Unless... unless..."

Her eyes suddenly sparked with newfound energy.

"Yes... yes, that's it. Don't give up, Oscar, there may still be hope! But first..." Glinda lowered her voice, stopping at the chair's side and moving her fingers soothingly over Oz's forearm. "First I need to tell you everything. The full story. What we Witches are – and where we came from."

_To be continued..._


	2. Glinda's Tale

**2. Glinda's Tale  
**

"For as long as our history records remember," Glinda started, "for millennia, the Land of Oz has been ruled by a dynasty of wizard kings and witch queens.

From what little I know of your country, it seems that true witches don't exist in it – they're just villains for your children's tales, bogeywomen with brooms. But here in Oz, a witch wields power – nothing else. It all depends on how she uses it.

My father, King Pastoria, ruled for the last five centuries..."

"Five centuries? Your father?" asked Oz, looking slightly skeptical. "And you're how old, then?"

Glinda just smiled.

"Let's say I'm older than I look – most of us are. Wielders of magic don't grow old the way most people do. We don't die of old age, nor of disease. But the way we use our powers affects our looks.

Overexerting yourself, overusing your powers takes a toll on you, making you weary of life – and increasingly older. And using them for evil... Well, it siphons your life out of you eventually. The result... isn't pretty."

"But Evanora..." said Oz, looking doubtful.

"Oh, that? A mere trick. She fooled my father, my people, fooled everyone except me – and that's only because that's my domain, seeing past illusions and casting them away. She was exposed when I depowered her – as the ugly, disfigured hag that she has become. If you ever meet her again, you'll see for yourself."

"I'm still unconvinced." The Wizard folded his arms, raising his eyes inquisitively at Glinda. "How do I know _you_ aren't a Wicked Witch yourself? What if you only used me to get to the throne of the Emerald City – with the help of a puppet ruler you can control?"

Glinda smiled again. "I expected that question, sooner or later. You've grown, Oscar. Not judging anything at face value anymore. All I can say is that nobody can give you such a guarantee – you have to judge for yourself. You've known me for five years – have I done anything suspicious? At all?"

"Well, I suppose if you wanted to make a move against me, you'd have done so already." Oz smiled, clapping lightly on Glinda's wrist. "So you were saying? Your father?"

"It pains me to remember what it was like," Glinda sighed. "His reign was long and glorious – I lived through most of it. Back at the dawn of his reign, when he was still young and fair, my mother – the fairy queen Lurline – became enamored by him. Father invited her to the palace and crowned her as his queen.

But I have only sketchy memories of my mother. I was still a child when she departed, and nobody in Oz saw her again. Such is the life of fairies – they never dwell in the same place for too long. All that she left behind to remind of her was me and my three sisters..."

"Three?" asked the Wizard in surprise. "I only know of two. Know better than I wish I have."

"I'm not surprised. Locasta is reclusive, and probably still too occupied with the North to care about us, or to come to our help.

Locasta was the eldest and wisest of us, the four princesses. But also completely unambitious, never questioning. The paragon servant of the people, and it worked until... well, until the kingdom came to need something more. Someone greater.

Evanora was the second oldest, then came I... When little Theodora was born, I was old enough to remember it. If only barely. And sweet ancestors... what a joy it was.

Theodora was power incarnate. Strong. Brazen. Adventurous. Inquisitive. She was everything Locasta wasn't. Sometimes I thought the world was too small for her. She rarely stayed in the city, instead constantly disappearing on her adventures. Quite an explorer she was those days, led by her fiery spirit – turning over every little nook and cranny in Oz, even many that our official history forgot about. She got especially close to Evanora because the older sister took a deep interest in her travels... too deep, as I found too late.

It felt like Theodora was born for greatness. She had 'destiny' written all over her. And only one flaw, but one that brought her demise: she grew gullible and shortsighted. So focused she was on what was far away, beyond the borders of the known, that she didn't notice what was happening right under her nose. Perhaps if she grew up differently... had a childhood where she had to always think for herself...

...But I really shouldn't speak ill of the dead.

One day, the kingdom fell into dark times. The four Wicked Witches of old banded together to overthrow my father. They each conquered a country of Oz, their reigns of terror forcing the common people out of their lands and into the protection of the Emerald City. Father helped who he could, healing the wounded and emptying the royal treasury to support the poor and homeless..."

"Emptying? There's quite a fortune of gold locked in here," the Wizard said skeptically.

"Evanora's work, no doubt. Her enemies tended to... disappear... along with all their possessions. That gold is ill-gotten, Oscar, and I wouldn't touch it if I were you. But as I was saying...

The troubles were taking a heavy toll on father. In half a year he aged more than an ordinary man would in twenty. Something had to be done about the Witches, something that would instill hope in the hearts of his citizens. So he sent us. Four princesses, four Good Witches, against four Wicked Witches. One to liberate each country.

Evanora was finished first – with disturbing ease. The Wicked Witch of the East was cast down, and nobody saw her ever since. Evanora didn't go through much fanfare announcing her victory, though the Munchkins welcomed her as their savior. Father welcomed her as his most trusted advisor, the closest person to the throne.

Theodora blazed through the Winkie Country, leaving a trail of debris behind – but she got the job done. The Wicked Witch of the West was stripped of her powers and imprisoned in the Emerald City. And as for me... it took me years, slowly and methodically cornering the Witch of the South and denying her her strength – I couldn't risk wrecking the entire Quadling Country if I let our full powers run unchecked. Eventually I was victorious too.

And as for the North... Locasta chased Mombi into obscure, uncharted lands – and vanished along with her. Nobody has seen them for decades, and nobody knows where they went, or if they're even still alive. The Gillikin Country was left leaderless, left to its own devices – and I believe it still is. Perhaps that's for the best.

It seemed that peace returned to the land at last, at the cost of Locasta's disappearance. The triumphs of the remaining three of us were darkened by the unfortunate news. Evanora was the next in the line of succession, and I knew my limitations well enough not to desire the throne for myself. I work much better as an advisor, as number two – the position that was now occupied by Evanora.

But the people loved Theodora more, and made no secret of it. She was the active princess, always being whenever trouble was – and fighting it with all the energy and zeal she was capable of. The kingdom was rebuilding, and father helped where he could, but his health was fading fast. Rumors were spreading, and it didn't help matters. Now, from what I know, it seems that father was planning to abdicate, as it is the custom in our land for kings and queens weary of life. But he couldn't decide on a successor.

Evanora felt vulnerable. She was already the second most important person in the kingdom, and she had all of Munchkinland to rule, but she desired more. And above all, she hated uncertainty. She'd rather weaken her own position by reckless actions than deal with unknowns.

And I believe this was what pushed her, already rotten inside, to that last act of desperation. The point of no return. Patricide.

In hindsight, she probably crossed the line much earlier. I suspect she probably killed the old Wicked Witch of the East, breaking the number one taboo of a Good Witch: not to kill. But it was killing her father that cemented her fall – and then she framed me for it. It was a crude lie – she never had your finesse in deception – but it was believed, and by Theodora most stingingly of all.

I couldn't risk fighting back and igniting a civil war. So I pleaded guilty, relinquished all claims to the throne, and accepted my exile. I didn't believe in the Prophecy of the Wizard, but I knew that evil never lasts, so I bided my time and waited. I don't even know what for. Perhaps for a better leader than myself. Eventually you came by, and... you know the rest."

The Wizard clenched his lips and rose from his chair. He seemed tired, taking effort to make every step he walked. "I don't know how this helps us, Glinda. All you did was make me feel even more guilty about Theodora. And now I lost a friend trying to bring her back."

Glinda shook her head. "I would lie if I said there was no fault of yours in her fall, but the bulk of the blame falls on Evanora, still. Twisting this open, overly trusting mind. But her soul still lives – somewhere. Where, I don't know. But without it, her body wouldn't exist – even if it's driven by nothing but the burning fire of hate and anger."

"There's no fire too strong to be doused," Oz said grimly, taking a glass of water and pouring it over one corner of the fireplace. The flames hissed, retreating from the wet charcoals. "I made her into this, and I will..."

"I hope it won't come that far," said Glinda. "I'll try to recover Theodora's soul, while we still can. But to do this... we need to know more."

She took a deep breath, her eyes sparkling with determination.

"We'll turn the palace over. Search everything, every corner of it. But we _must _find out what happened between my sisters – back on that dark day, six years ago."

_To be continued..._


	3. The Rotten and the Ripe

**3. The Rotten and the Ripe  
**

Evanora's hut was built at one of the many ends of the Yellow Brick Road in the Munchkin Country, at the edge of the Sapphire Forest. The trees were made of living sapphire there, rising to the sky and casting a blue tint over the meadows around the forest – blue like most things in the East.

Bright and cheerful this place used to be, until the woman now known as the Wicked Witch of the East chose it as her dwelling. The sun did not shine around her house of dull grey bricks, just as ugly and crooked as she herself now was. A strange, unnatural twilight surrounded travelers bold enough to venture past it, a darkness without a source, in which the blue tint of the trees and grass felt unwelcoming, icy cold.

"Be careful," said Glinda, approaching the house's doorstep, illuminating the way with the glowing jewel at the tip of her wand. "This is the lair of a desperate, cornered beast. I don't know what she might try."

The China Girl clung tight to the sorceress' shoulder, looking around anxiously and listening to the ominous hisses and screeches around. Knuck and the Master Tinker just saluted to Glinda, assuming guard positions at the entrance.

With a creaking sound, Glinda opened the small door.

Inside, an old, wrinkled woman, with grey hip-long hair, was sitting on her knees in front of a fireplace. It was hard to recognize once-beautiful Evanora in her; if anything, she more raggedy than just after her exile from the Emerald City, as the kind of person so sunk into apathy that she didn't care at all about her appearance.

"Ah, it's been a while," Evanora hissed, standing up. "Coming to gloat, no doubt."

"It is natural to project your own mind onto others," Glinda said quietly, folding her arms. "Which is why you could never understand me like I did you. I see no joy in this. I wouldn't have come if I didn't need you."

"Oh really?" Evanora smirked with an amused look. "The high and mightly Glinda. Uncrowned Queen of Oz. You ruined my body, took away my powers, took away everything I cared for – and now it's not enough, and you _still _want something from me?"

"Sister, we both know that this is how you looked all along. You ultimately only deceive yourself by hiding it – or by pretending you cared about anything other than power."

"Says you," growled Evanora. "I always did what was best for my people, protecting them against the real Wicked Witch – you! And unlike you, I always cared about my family. Especially my little sister who had nobody except me – because you were too full of yourself to lower yourself to poor Theodora's needs."

"You lie!" shouted the China Girl. "You destroyed my home town and killed my family!"

"What? I didn't, and you know it!" said Evanora.

Glinda blinked paused, looking patiently into her sister's eyes.

"...That's... strange. I sense no deceit in your words," she said at last, lowering her eyes. "So you didn't send the storm over China Town? Then who did?"

"You did!" Evanora exclaimed, taking a step back and pointing her shaking, curved finger at the Good Witch. "Who else?"

"What color is my necklace, sister?" Glinda asked sternly.

"White... no, wait..." Evanora's eyes widened. "Black!"

"Then you lied."

The China Girl climbed backwards, hiding her head behind Glinda's while clinging to her shoulders with both hands, and looked cautiously at the old witch from her cover. Her face expressed confusion.

"I want the truth from you, sister," said Glinda. "Tell it, and I'll leave you alone. It's your life now – as long as you bring no more harm, live it as you see fit."

"And if I just stay silent? What's the worst you can do, 'Good Witch' – kill me? You don't kill."

Glinda lowered her wand, joining her feet together on the dirty rug in the middle of the room. "There are worse fates in Oz than death, sister, and you know this. How about eternal torture? Or maybe I should just dispense with the trouble and send you after the Wicked Witch of the South. You remember what I did to her, don't you?"

"You wouldn't dare!"

"It was you who called me a Wicked Witch, Evanora. Who's to say there's something too depraved for me to do?"

Evanora clenched her fists so tightly that her pointy, claw-like nails dug into her own skin, coating her fingertips with blood.

"You win, monster. For now. What do you want to know?"

"Tell me what you did to Theodora," Glinda said calmly.

"Only what she needed to be happy, and what she asked me for."

"That's not an answer!"

Evanora sighed, shaking from suppressed rage. "The poor girl was betrayed, heartbroken because of your precious Wizard. I saw it in his face, how he treated me – and I realized that it was his way with all women. Treating them like disposable toys. My sister was just the latest of his victims. And then we saw him with you. I didn't care – I knew he'd ditch you just as soon. I'll be surprised if he hasn't yet."

"Actually – "

"Shut up, I'm talking!" Evanora's eyes flashed. "All her life, little Theodora came to me for support. Nobody in the family understood her like I did. She was the strange one, the black sheep, the rebellious princess. I was the only person keeping her sane all those years. And when the Wizard broke her, I knew exactly how to heal her."

"You call stealing her soul healing?!" Glinda finally exploded, feeling even her patience being quickly drained away.

"I helped her. You never even talked to her, how would you know how lonely she was? She tried to find love, but her manners scared away all the men. She did get some offers from women, but..." Evanora smiled sadly, "it was not her style. Meeting the Wizard meant hope for her – hope that he squashed. And the only way I saw to mend her broken heart was to rip out her weaknesses – pesky emotions that upset and hindered her. Love, most of all."

"Do you realize what you've done?! You turned an innocent into a monster!"

"I made her free." Evanora grinned proudly. "Free from doubt and fear of people. Free from the fragility of her soul. I helped her become the person that I only wish I was myself – and at her own request!"

"You may not be lying," Glinda shook her head, "from your own point of view. But I feel you're not telling me the whole truth, either. What exactly did you do? What spell was it?"

"If you're seeking to undo it, then forget it!" Evanora stepped closer to the fireplace, and her shadow on the wall grew taller, making her, even depowered, seem more menacing. "This is old magic, truly ancient, beyond my power – or yours! You'll find that her soul is quite thoroughly severed – and it will never merge back with her body again, so don't even try."

"If it's not your magic, then whose?"

"Gingema's."

Glinda gasped and raised her arm, holding her wand tightly. "I knew you were rotten, Evanora – but I never thought you'd be this stupid!"

Evanora grinned. "Why is it stupid to build up your strength? The old Wicked Witch of the East had quite a few useful techniques – and I wouldn't let them be forgotten. Oh, you should have seen the look on Theodora's face when she bit that apple! Pure joy and bliss. Sense of liberation." She tried to sound confident, but her voice trembled as the not-so-pleasant memories of the transformation floated up in her mind. "I only regret that there was only one – and I saved it for my most precious person. If only I could find more!"

"This sickens me." Glinda breathed deeply, relaxing the grip on her wand. "Where did this happen?"

"In my private chamber in the palace. It's locked, and you'll never – "

"I've heard enough," Glinda cut her off, walking out with heavy steps, and slammed the door behind her."

"Are you... Are you all right?" asked the China Girl, jumping onto the ground and casting a concerned look into Glinda's eyes from below.

"I... I am. I'm sorry. When hearing something like this... sometimes even I have trouble keeping calm. I'm not proud of this." The Good Witch caught her breath, lowering her free hand for the tiny girl to hold. "We're leaving!" she said, turning towards a seemingly empty spot.

A piece of the dark blue trunk of a nearby tree rolled up like a curtain, and Oz stepped out from behind it, appearing seemingly out of nowhere – next to the real tree, thinner than it seemed to be just a moment ago. He smiled, folding the cloth into a thin tiny roll that he hid in an inner pocket of his coat.

"You heard everything, right?" Glinda smiled back.

"Oh, of course I have! Not much of a Wizard otherwise. So this can tell truth from lies?" Oz moved a finger over Glinda's necklace, back to its usual white color. "A convenient thing to have, if only you told me earlier."

"There's nothing special about the necklace," said Glinda. "Her lies didn't do anything."

"Then what did?" asked the China Girl.

"I did." As she said this, the necklace cycled through all colors of the rainbow, before turning white again. "It was bluff, nothing more. But it tends to work against people who have something to hide."

"Taking lessons from me, aren't you?" the Wizard chuckled, before stepping back on the road. "Let's go home."

* * *

_Kaboom!_

The emerald-encrusted door exploded into pieces, flying over the room. Glinda boldly stepped in – followed by the Wizard, cautiously.

The room looked long abandoned, everything covered by years' worth of dust – though as this was the Emerald City, of course, even the dust appeared green. A broken mirror on the wall, its shards lying by; an inert crystal ball; an old thick tome, opened in the middle.

Glinda approached the book and flipped through its large pages rapidly. Her face changed from indifference to concern, and then to horror. Finally she slammed the book shut and put it under her armpit.

"I'll need to go through that later," she said. "Disgusting forbidden magic, all of it, but it doesn't tell us what we need to – "

"Glinda, look!"

Oz crouched on the floor, looking at a shiny object on the floor – the only thing in this room that hadn't collected dust.

It was a bitten apple. Somehow it stayed fresh and clean over the years, and the bite didn't even show any signs of decay, looking so perfectly white as if the bite was only made a second ago.

"This... this is what I was afraid of," Glinda said sadly, crouching next to Oz.

She picked the apple up from the floor and moved it next to her ear. "Listen," she whispered, moving it closer to the Wizard's face.

Oz turned his ear to the apple, then blinked and recoiled. There could be no mistake – he heard Theodora's voice! Faint, desperate, almost fading... but it was there.

_Nine hundred and fifty-two... Nine hundred and fifty-three..._

_I remember the hike through Bunnybury, the happy rabbits hopping in the red grass, and the red castle on the mountaintop... I remember Glinda's smile, her warm hands on my shoulders... What is red, and what is warm? I barely remember. My eyes remember, and my skin remembers... but it's so faint when I have neither. What is it like? Color... Smell... Soothing voices... Something from my old life. All is black now, but as long as I remember, I'll stay myself..._

_Nine hundred and fifty-four... How long can I keep up? How long has passed? The only measure of time here are my words... I see it now – who's good and who's evil... Who truly loved me and who used me. I never should have accepted it, but it's too late. It all seemed harmless..._

_Sister... Wizard... I hope they can forgive me. If only I could start over..._

Glinda and Oz exchanged looks. For a while they listened silently to this speech, never stopping, and with every sentence their faces turned increasingly pale.

"We have a problem," Glinda said at last.

_To be continued..._


	4. Second Thoughts and Second Chances

_**Author's Note**_

_A reader has pointed out a minor continuity error in the previous chapter._

_I take continuity seriously, so if you see any contradictions between the movie and my story, the only reason they exist is because I've only seen the movie once so far, in a theater, so I'm going by memory. So once I have the movie on DVD, I'll go over It and fix inconsistencies not critical to the story. There are, on the other hand, some deliberate inconsistencies with the Oz books which exist because the movie introduced them in the first place, and whenever there is a conflict, I follow the movie as the most authoritative source._

_One possible inconsistency with the movie, as another reader pointed out, lies in Glinda being the other two witches' sister. This is crucial to my premise, which gets revealed in this chapter, but in hindsight I don't remember if the movie explicitly confirms that – I just assumed it. So if it turns out the movie doesn't explicitly state it, then, well, they're sisters for the purposes of my story._

* * *

**4. Second Thoughts and Second Chances  
**

"Can we help her?" asked Oz. His usual confidence evaporated; he cast an almost begging look at Glinda.

"At this point," said the Good Witch, "I'm not certain if doing something is going to be better than doing nothing. But... I'll try. I can't just sit and know she's trapped in there."

Glinda stood up, straightened herself with determination, and touched her wand against the apple, whispering a few words in a language the man from Kansas did not understand. A swirl of sparkles filled the room, rising from the floor like a small tornado, but glimmering – and inspiring awe rather than fear – until it coalesced into a vaguely human silhouette. Its features grew more pronounced with every passing second, until Oz recognized who appeared before him.

It was Theodora, with the fair, unnaturally smooth face that he still remembered from before her dreadful transformation. Wearing the same bold red jacket and broad-brimmed hat in which she once found him on that shore. Except she was translucent, with subdued colors, looking surreal, not fully there, like a ghost.

Before the Wizard could as much as smile from joy, however, Theodora screamed and covered her eyes.

"Aah! Too bright!"

"It's all right," Oz tried to cup Theodora's shoulder, but instead, his hand went through her. "We're here. You're with us now..."

"The light... My eyes... I haven't seen light for so long, I... I almost forgot what it is..." Theodora removed her hands slowly, still keeping her eyes closed. "Wizard, you need to know... I was blind. I misjudged you and Glinda... Evanora was the real wicked one all along."

"I know," Oz said assuringly, smiling a little.

Theodora opened her eyes, blinking and squinting them – and putting her hand flat above her eyes, as little help as it was. "Wizard! Glinda, you're here too! But... Why does everything look so... unreal? Are we dead? Did Evanora win?"

"We're very much alive, sister," Glinda smiled. "And Evanora is exiled and powerless. We won."

"But at what cost..." mumbled the Wizard, holding his hand thoughtfully in the air, under Theodora's ghostly hand, even if he couldn't touch it.

"Am I dead, then?" Theodora asked with a sign of desperation, widening her eyes and blinking. She tried to hug them both, but her arms, too, went through them instead of holding onto anything; and she looked at her translucent hands, horrified.

"Well... yes and no." Glinda lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry to see you like this... There's a lot you need to know, first."

* * *

Oz and Glinda spent the next half hour retelling their adventures: what _really _happened in the swamp, the truth behind the flawed presentation in Evanora's crystal ball; the trip to the Red Country and the preparations to storm the Emerald City; Oscar Diggs' miraculous "rebirth" as the "immortal" Wizard of Oz; and finally, the fate of the two Wicked Witches. Theodora listened with interest, even cheering up a little, but as she heard about the latest encounter with the Witch of the West, her eyes darkened with despair. It looked like she would start crying if she physically could.

"Six years..." she said weakly. "I was in that apple for six years?"

"Believe me," said the Wizard, sighing, "if we had learned about this sooner, we'd have come as soon as we could... I kept thinking about you all these years. Thinking what I did to you, and how to set things right."

"I was so wrong about you." Theodora sat down on a chair and lowered her head, crossing her arms on her lap. "Even if you lied about making me your queen..." She smiled grimly, snorting.

"Six years, eh... It felt like an eternity.

The last thing I remember is... Evanora's creepy laughter... then I understood that she was the evil one... having duped me all along. Understood too late. The next moment, everything went dark... I heard my own voice screaming like I was being torn apart, but only for a split second. After that... nothing.

I didn't know what happened to me. I thought I died, but this is not how I imagined the afterlife. I was alone, with my own thoughts. No eyes to see, no mouth to speak – even to myself.

I lost all sense of time. I counted, though I kept losing count whenever I got into the tens of thousands, but it was still the best I had. I had all the time in the world to remember my whole life, from my earliest memories of looking into a mirror as a child... I had to rehash everything I still remembered, all the time, because I was afraid that if I stopped, my mind would fade away..."

"I think, therefore I am," said Oz solemnly. "So spoke a wise man in my world, long ago."

"As scary as it was to be alone among nothingness," continued Theodora, "it was even scarier to imagine losing myself, becoming _nothing_ entirely – or worse, losing my sanity. Maybe I already have. I lost the hope of ever seeing anyone again, but I clung to my existence out of stubbornness. To spite death, perhaps.

And even now, though I can see and hear you... I once knew touch and smell. I barely remember what they are – or just remember that I had these senses. I don't know anymore what it's like. I no longer remember the taste of food – or even what it feels like to be hungry. I don't know sleep, and I doubt I could find refuge in sleep even if I wanted to. Just never-ending consciousness... scarred by those years alone, and I don't know if I'll ever recover."

"Glinda..." The Wizard pressed his fingertips together. "Can you mend her? Bring her back to her body?"

Glinda shook her head sadly. "No more than I can bring back our late father. As much as I'd like to."

"And if you kill my body..." said Theodora, "what will happen to me?"

"You'll disappear from this world," said Glinda with clear horror in her voice. "Well and truly dead. But sister, you can't really be thinking – "

"Do it, Glinda!" Theodora rose from her seat and tapped her foot demandingly. "Find the Wicked Witch of the West and destroy her! I'd... I'd rather be dead than keep... existing like this." She moved her hollow hand over Evanora's old dusty desk, trying to pick up an unlit candle, but failed to grab it. "Just a ghost, burdened by memories of loneliness... and knowing that my _real_ hands steal and murder as we speak."

Oz thrust his head forward in panic. "You can't be serious! After everything we went through to save you – "

"– You should know better than to deny _my_ will," Theodora finished sadly. "How would you like it if you were immortal and turned to stone, or buried, but stayed conscious forever? I'm sorry, Wizard – here in Oz, there are fates worse than death.

You two are heroes, don't get me wrong. You saved the land, so that its people can live on happy... Just not me. Giving me my final rest will be enough. Kill the Wicked Witch."

Glinda's face stayed thoughtful as Theodora spoke. Finally, she took a deep breath and said quietly, "There is another way."

Theodora and Oz turned to her in confusion.

"There is always another way. One that doesn't involve killing – even killing someone this far gone. I wouldn't consider it under _any_ other circumstances... I promised myself I wouldn't do something I regret so much..."

Glinda sighed deeply.

"Theodora... have you ever wondered what _really_ happened to the Wicked Witch of the South?"

Theodora blinked once, inclining her head to the side. "I thought you imprisoned her?"

"No. I... I was afraid she was too powerful to be contained by mere wards. I didn't kill her, no... but what I did, I find it almost worse."

Glinda stood up and approached the exit, motioning for Oz and Theodora to follow.

"Come. There's something I should show you."

* * *

It was late night outside the palace, and only the light of Glinda's wand let the Wizard see a thing. She led him and Theodora into the inner courtyard, into the center of a seemingly ordinary square paved with green marble tiles.

Glinda raised her wand, spreading her arms wide, and nine tiles lifted into the air, floating above the ground. Levitating them with her hands, she lowered them on the ground nearby.

A wide patch of bare dirt was exposed under the pavement. Glinda continued to move her arms, sending sparkles from the tip of her wand to spread the soil until a hole dug itself in the middle of the square, deeper and deeper –

– until a stream of water burst out from below the ground. Glinda jumped back, careful not to let a single drop land on her, or even on her dress. The water continued to shoot high, forming a fountain in the wide opening in the floor.

"I created this long ago..." she said quietly. "To be used against the one person who could challenge my rule in the South. Now I wish I handled things differently. Only my father knew what I hid where nobody would look – on the palace grounds. The Water of Oblivion."

"Quite an ominous name for something made by a Good Witch," smiled the Wizard. "What do they do?"

"They wipe the drinker's memories, turning them as innocent as a baby."

"WHAT?!"

Oz's face immediately changed to a deep frown. He turned to Glinda, staring into her eyes in fury. Theodora even took a step back, despite knowing she herself couldn't be harmed.

"Do you even realize what you've created?!" he exploded. "How it could be misused? You don't kill, no. But this is next to the same thing – a way to dispose of your enemies as you see fit, destroy them as people, except it lets you sleep at night!"

"I..." Glinda paused, joining her hands together. "I was younger then, and less... picky in my methods. A Good Witch has one hard and fast rule: don't kill. I thought I could... work around that, and this was what I did to the Wicked Witch of the South. There's no excuse for it, and I wouldn't have done it now."

She moved her eyes from the Wizard to Theodora.

"But for you, sister... if you really don't want to reconsider..."

"I said everything!" exclaimed Theodora. "For six years I clung to dear life... but now, after seeing what I've become... I just want to let go."

She approached the fountain slowly, looking bravely at its falling waters. She turned to Glinda first.

"Goodbye, sister. It was good while it lasted."

Then she turned to Oz.

"Goodbye, Wizard. Look after Glinda for me, will you?"

Closing her eyes, the ghostly woman stepped into the center of the fountain, looking down at her reflection and crossing her arms on her chest. Her image started to dissolve, losing its features rapidly, until it fell apart and was drawn completely into the stream, its last sparks carried away underground.

For a few moments, Glinda and Oz stayed silent, gazing sadly into the middle of the fountain.

Glinda then walked towards it, looking down – but she saw only her own reflection. From where he stood, Oz noticed that a single tear dropped out of her eye and fell into the fountain...

And suddenly the waters stirred.

The Wizard barely managed to pull Glinda back unceremoniously by her collar before the fountain erupted upwards, shooting high above their heads. When it calmed down, a green stalk of a plant grew quickly from below the water, surrounded by unfolding leaves. On its end, there was a flower bud, as red as Theodora's clothes. The Wizard only blinked in surprise as the bud swiftly grew to an enormous size, about three times the size of a human head – and opened in front of him.

It was a red poppy flower, the largest the Wizard has ever seen, even by Oz standards. Most unusual, however, was what – or rather, who – it was hiding inside. Between its four petals lay a naked baby girl, giggling happily and stretching her tiny arms up, with neck-long black hair framing her face. A face round and smooth, and seeming oddly familiar...

"...It's her," said Glinda. "I recognize this... Just like on the day she was born. Oh, sister... You've gone far."

Her eyes suddenly filled with joy. Picking up the infant – after which the flower obediently sunk beneath the water surface and disappeared from sight – she suddenly jumped, tears of happiness streaming down her smiling face.

"Of course! 'As innocent as a baby'... I should have guessed. Witches don't age like mortals... What's on the inside is on the outside. It's not just her memories that are reset – she's bodily reborn!"

"What?!" The Wizard ran towards her, tracing his fingers along the baby girl's chin. "This... this is Theodora?"

"This is my sister," said Glinda. "Just how I first saw her in my life. A second chance for her, and for us – to raise her right this time."

Holding the child with one arm, she waved the hand holding her wand. The displaced marble tiles gathered together, securely hiding the unearthed spot in the pavement. Nobody would now guess they were ever removed in the first place, and nobody would know of the secret buried under them.

"But Theodora... It's a name of the past." Glinda sighed. "The Theodora we knew is dead, gone as a person. The child princess... will need a new name."

Oz could barely move, frozen speechless. "I'm sorry... I can barely think as it is. Moments ago, an adult woman... We kissed, we danced... And now, a child? I think I'll leave it to you, Glinda, no offense, but – I don't know if I'll ever get used to it."

"Oh, but I think you will," smiled Glinda. "I'll raise her just like my own daughter. And I think she'll grow to like you just like a father." She looked into the little girl's eyes. "Isn't it right... Ozma?"

_To be continued..._


	5. To Each Their Own

_**Author's Notes**_

_Dang, this has been a hard one. Several times I opened the word processor, only to stare blankly at an empty document. I've started to blame myself for low productivity, what with readers expecting updates, and expecting them fast._

_I had to go through several different approaches for this chapter, partly because Ozma's fate following her birth, while touched in the books, is irreconcilable with characterization given for the Wizard in the movie (and the later books). In the end, I found a way around it, or so I think, but "the tale grew in the telling" and I'm not quite done with it yet..._

_Oh, and if you see a WMG theory for the movie on TV Tropes that sounds suspiciously similar to my plot, it's because I wrote that theory – and then this story, based on it!_

* * *

**5****. ****To Each Their Own****  
**

China Country was stirred up that day.

For eight years since the exile of the Wicked Witches, the Quadling craftsmen worked hard to undo the damage to undo the damage to that little enclave, one of the jewels of the South. The Wizard's gift to his new land – glue – came handy in this. The Quadlings tirelessly mended the houses, found whatever few other survivors were left, gluing together their lost body parts, and made dozens of new china people, big and small, to live in the restored teapot-houses, and pet animals for them to look after. And Glinda herself breathed life into them – for it was her will as the ruler of the Red Country.

Recently, the little China Girl, as much as she cared about her new family in the Emerald City, decided to come back to her reunited kind. "There's no place like home," she said. Her people were quite pleased – and decided to crown her as their ruler.

The ceremony attracted many visitors, not just among the china people themselves, but also from the surrounding lands. The human farmers, rabbits of Bunnybury, and even the living kitchenware of Utensia – all came to stand along the main road to the Emerald City.

The Mayor – an important-looking man with a belly and a wig, short even by china people standards – held a little crown, made, of course, out of china, painted pink to match the kneeling girl's hair, and encrusted with three rubies at the top. He then lowered it over her head, and it stuck to her like it was always part of her; she stood up to the applause of the diverse crowd.

"I hereby pass this crown upon you," said the Mayor, "friend of the Great Oz, savior of Glinda, heroine of the Battle of the Emerald City! Long live the Princess of China Country!"

"Long live the Princess!" echoed the crowd.

The girl smiled and bowed, a tear streaming down her cheek.

"My dear kin," she said with her sweet child voice. "None of us would be here today if not for the Wizard of Oz – least of all me. And with my first royal act, I decree: may there be a pharmacy here in our town, and let it make the magical glue, for free, for everyone – by the recipe the Wizard so generously gave us, so that we all can get mended if we ever get injured again!"

"Hooray!" exclaimed the china people.

"And though the Great Oz himself is regretfully no longer bodily with us," she smirked, barely visibly to anyone, "I expect some other special guests here today. They should be arriving..."

She looked at the big clock on the wall of the town hall, a building shaped as a tall vase towering over all the teapot-houses. They moved to two o'clock just as she finished speaking, and when the bell rang two times...

A cloud of red dust rose from the big road, followed by sounds of hooves clacking on the bricks. The spectators gave way to a pink carriage driven by two white stags, with none other than Knuck in the coachman's seat.

"Most timely, General Knuck!" said the China Princess, resisting the temptation to call him Sourpuss on such an official occasion.

"Oh, General no more," said the short man. He seemed happy, which coming from him was almost unnatural. He even made an attempt to smile on his own, pulling the corners of his lips up in such a forced manner that it seemed scary and goofy at the same time. "I'm retired."

"Oh? Why so?"

"The Wizard has disbanded the Royal Army of Oz," said Knuck. "Since a sorcerer who can melt rock with his breath and cast down stars has no need for mere soldiers." He winked at the China Princess, who winked back. "They were happy to return to their farms, I'm told. Only left Faramant and Din Gior, one to guard the gates and one for the throne room. Good men, I'm told – young as they may be. But let me introduce our special guests. Arriving straight from a visit to the Emerald City – Glinda, the Good Witch of the South, ruler of the Quadling Country!"

The carriage door opened, and Glinda, in her ever-unstained pink dress, stepped out onto the pavement to another wave of applause.

"The fabled Master Tinker, royal expert on all things mechanical!" announced Knuck.

The tall man with a greying beard, likewise, stepped out of the carriage and bowed to the crowd.

"And finally... Well, I'll let our last guest introduce herself!"

"Last guest?" the China Princess said quitely, surprised. "But I only expected..."

Out of the carriage stepped a respectable elderly woman, wearing a white robe with stars and a blindingly white pointed hat. She held a thin, simple staff.

"What is your name, m'lady?" asked the China Princess.

"Oh ho ho!" said the unexpected visitor. "I have many names. They call me Tattypoo in the North, those adorable little Gillikins. I'm known as Addaperle in the West, Willina in the East, Lillian in the far away Land of Ev, in the South... hmm..." she tapped on the ground thoughtfully with her staff, "I believe this is my first time in the South, really. Though long ago in my native Emerald City I was called Locasta... so you, too, can call me that."

"Locasta?" The China Princess gasped, and moved her head back so suddenly that the crown shook on it. "So you... you are..."

"My long lost sister, the Good Witch of the North," said Glinda, extending her hand above the small girl.

"Sister?" The China Princess squinted her eyes, looking skeptically at the two witches. Locasta looked, if anything, old enough to be the youthful Glinda's grandmother. "But how... Why were you absent for so long?"

"All in due time, my dear child, all in due time," said the elderly witch, nodding. "I believe you have your people waiting for you!"

"But of course!" The wide-eyed girl jumped, raising her arms high. "A feast for our dear guests, please!"

* * *

The feast table, as it was made for the Big People, was so long that it almost stretched from one end of the little town to the other. The china folk didn't eat, so the table was left entirely at the disposal of the humans, and the Utensians were quite relieved that there was enough ordinary, non-sentient utensils to use, so that none of _them_ would end up having to pick up food.

"You know, I envy you," said the Master Tinker with his mouth stuffed, looking at the China Princess sitting on Glinda's shoulder. "You don't get hungry or tired... and if you break, you can be easily mended together again."

"But we're brittle and fragile," the China Princess protested. "And I've always been curious about that thing you call taste. Shame I can't feel what it's like!"

"But humans are fragile too. Perhaps more than you, and we can't be fixed this easily. The Wizard restored your broken legs back in the day, but if you were made of flesh... you could be crippled for life."

The Master Tinker paused.

"In fact... after hearing that Sourpuss... sorry, Knuck was honorably discharged, I requested retirement too. I mean, of course, I love the Great Oz, he's a whiz of a wiz if ever a wiz there was, heh. But I don't have much of a life left, and before I die, I hope to finish my pet project. My passion."

"Oh? You never mentioned anything like that!"

"It's my secret." The old man pushed his chest forward proudly, hushing his voice. "I want to create better bodies for humans. Bodies that would know no need to eat or sleep, and wouldn't age... Enchanted, of course. And it would have to be something more durable than china. Metal, perhaps?"

"You're crazy!" laughed the China Princess.

"Just you wait, little girl, just you wait! Everyone always laughs at inventors before history proves them right!"

"We'll see, we'll see," the girl said politely. "It seems we're all going our own ways, then. Though I don't see little Ozma leaving us anytime soon, right, Glinda?"

"Oh, that reminds me," said the Good Witch. "I need to check on her. Locasta, if you'd be so kind?"

"Of course, of course!"

Locasta put her fork away and waved her staff. The door of the carriage opened, and a framed painting flew out of it, landing on the grass next to the two witches. The picture in the frame seemed to be constantly shifting, showing something different, but always beautiful. A sky, a waterfall, a meadow of crystal flowers...

"Evanora did have some useful tricks in her book after all," explained Glinda. "Though I refined them. Unlike her crystal ball, my picture can't look at people without their consent. But Ozma is more than happy to know I look after her wherever I go!"

She waved her hand over the canvas, and the picture changed again.

Inside a bedroom in the Emerald City palace, stuffed with children's toys, a toddler girl in a tiny emerald-green dress was walking over the floor. She bumped her forehead against a wall and sat down crying, waving her arms, though no sound could be heard through the picture. The Wizard, dressed in a simple casual shirt and pants – well, casual by the standards of Emerald City rulers, anyway – rushed to her, picking her up and patting her head comfortingly. The girl smiled in his face and said something, and he smiled back, too.

"Marvelous, isn't she?" said Glinda. "Her second birthday's in a week."

"And she's going to be the heir to the throne, right?" asked the China Princess.

"Seems so. I had to abandon my claim to the throne when Evanora exiled me, so officially I'm Queen Regent. Though it may change with Locasta's return – "

"No, no, and no!" the older witch exclaimed. Her merry face suddenly darkened. "Sorry, Glinda dear, but I've had enough thrones for a lifetime. I can't see myself serving a king or queen, let alone being one."

"What _did_ happen to you?" asked the China Princess. "I'm not complaining, but... why didn't you help us against the Wicked Witches?"

"Ho ho, because I was quite busy with a Wicked Witch of my own, my dear." Locasta sported a smile, though years of weariness could be guessed behind it. "I've already told the others my story, and the Wizard himself, too – but since you weren't there..."

She laid her staff aside and relaxed her arms limp over her lap.

"It all began decades ago, when father sent me to the North to free the Gillikins from the vile Mombi..."

_To be continued..._


	6. Fallout

**6****. ****Fallout**

"When I arrived," started Locasta, "I found the Gillikin Country deserted. Fields were overgrown, houses empty. From the talk of crows feasting on the crops, I learned that the farmers fled Mombi into the mountains, and she silenced dissenters by turning them into statues to decorate her courtyards.

I found her castle, black and crooked, deep in the Singing Forest, surrounded by countless marble statues of people, disturbingly lifelike and all frozen in horror. Through my bird spies, I learned that she was looking for a way to animate the statues and march towards the Emerald City at the head of a marble army. Of course, I couldn't allow that.

I awakened the trees that had been cast into sleep by Mombi's enchantment. And out of their bark and leaves, they formed drums and trumpets, harps and flutes, and many other instruments to play with their branches. And the music they made was so loud and powerful that the walls of the castle shook and crumbled.

It also scared all the animals away, though." Locasta smiled. "I'm told they were aftraid to wander into the Singing Forest for years since!"

"But what of the poor Gillikins?" asked the China Princess. "Did you bring them back to life?"

"Ho ho, patience, little girl! Royalty or not," Locasta patted the crown, "didn't they teach you to respect your elders?

You see, _just_ as I was readying a spell to undo Mombi's curse, I saw a deer jump out of the ruins of the castle, trying to get away. What's worse, it was running straight at me, aiming at me with its antlers! I jumped over its head and onto its back, determined to follow Mombi wherever she went.

Mombi tried different animal forms, big and small. She tried to get lost in a nest of mice, then a host of sparrows, but I always caught her. I gave her no rest, and no time to assume her real form and cast something truly terrifying. The chase continued until we reached the Deadly Desert, and she turned into a giant hawk in an attempt to cross it. But I had my arms tightly wrapped around her neck, and kept riding her as she carried me further and further away from the Land of Oz."

"I thought nobody could cross the Deadly Desert?" asked the China Princess.

"Not quite, ho ho! You can fly over it. Birds do it all the time. You can also cross it with magic, but you have to be careful! Magic only works in very few lands beyond Oz, so you may never find a way to get back.

Luckily, the land we found ourselves in was a land of magic, much like Oz. We were flying over a mountain range when Mombi made the last attempt to shake me off her. And I fell – just before she bumped her head into a cliff that she couldn't see in the fog.

She didn't make any more attempts to fly away. We lay on barren rock, amid mountains stretching for many miles around us. I asked her to surrender, but instead she started throwing everything in her arsenal at me, and I was forced to respond in kind.

We threw gigantic boulders at each other, shattered peaks and leveled valleys, summoned rains and storms on each other's heads. She didn't give me even a minute of rest, and neither did I. Her determination surprised me, but I couldn't just let her go – not after all the trouble I went through. We kept fighting for days, weeks..."

"Weeks?" The China Princess blinked. "And you didn't get tired, or... how do you call it... hungry?"

"Oh, I did, I did! But it seemed Mombi would burn herself out sooner than submit to me. I had to use magic to sustain myself, to stay awake and fed. Between that and the power I had to put out to match with Mombi... Let's just say, I aged more in those two weeks than I did in centuries."

Locasta smiled faintly, likely touching the amethyst gem at the tip of her simple staff.

"If not for that battle, I'd still look as young as sweet Glinda over here. I only realized what happened when we both grew too tired to fight, even with all the magic in the world. I looked at my wrinkled arms and realized what happened. Then I heard Mombi downhill, yelling about her lost beauty so loudly that she could probably be heard back in Oz. I gave chase again, even though my power was almost spent – but so was hers, it seemed. Running away, she fell into some kind of crack in the land. I looked in and saw dark slimy caves, so repulsive that I didn't follow her there. Instead, I started climbing the mountains, in the hope of finding a way back to Oz, or at least some kind of civilization.

I descended into a green valley by the sea – "

"What's a sea?" the China Princess interrupted her.

"Oh dear, oh dear! You have so much to learn of the world beyond Oz. A sea is a really big body of water, bigger than any lake you've ever seen, and that specific sea I'm talking about that it's many times bigger than the entire Land of Oz and all the lands that border it outside the Desert. When you stand on the shore, you don't see where it ends, and beyond it are lands unknown even to me...

I was spotted by soldiers in purple uniforms, who had just fended off some strange creatures – almost human, but with wheels instead of hands and feet.

'Who are you?' they asked.

'Princess Locasta, of the Royal House of Oz.'

'Are you responsible for the trouble in the mountains?'

I didn't lie and said that I was, and tried to explain how it happened. But they didn't want to listen, and restrained me. Soon the soldiers brought me to the city of Evna, where King Evoldo of Ev found me 'incredibly guilty' of damaging the land.

My royal heritage gave me some protection, but I was forced to stay in the royal palace and do demeaning chores for the king for many years, while he made sure that no word of me got out to Oz. There were no witches in the Land of Ev, and King Evoldo was excited to have one. His niece Langwidere, a vain and petty woman, got me to conjure twenty-nine spare heads for her that she could change like socks."

"Change heads? Now you're joking!" the China Princess giggled. "Flesh-people die without a head! Isn't that where you keep your... brains?"

"Oh, I don't know where her brains went," Locasta chuckled in turn. "Maybe she never had any in the first place, ho ho! At any rate, I was stuck in the palace, which felt like a prison in all but name, a gilded cage. Guards were ordered to never let me out, and if I needed food or magical materials, I had to order them through servants.

One day, the king left with his wife, all of their children, and their clockwork butler. Oh, Tik-Tok, such a funny metal man!" (At these words, the Master Tinker, who previously was barely following Locasta's tale, turned his head towards her curiously.)

"They were absent for a week, and nobody I spoke to knew where they went. Finally, Princess Langwidere told me that she didn't care about me and I was free to go. I never learned what happened to the royal family of Ev, nor did I desire to. I enchanted a carpet to fly me back over the Deadly Desert and straight to the Emerald City, to catch up on news in my absence. That was just a couple of days ago.

There I learned just how much changed in the meantime – that sister Evanora was herself a Wicked Witch all along, that she killed our father only to be herself overthrown by the Wonderful Wizard, who was very interested in me and gave me an audience, so I told him everything I've just told you now. He seems kind-natured, though he takes odd and scary forms, ho ho! I feel the kingdom is in good hands until Ozma grows up and takes the crown."

"Did you ever learn what happened to Mombi? And the Gillikins?" asked the China Princess.

Locasta opened her mouth, but Glinda made a motion with her hand, requesting to answer herself.

"I took care of the Gillikins," said the younger witch. "I specialize in breaking enchantments, especially twisted ones that turn people into something they're not. Once I pacified the South..." (Glinda's face darkened as she said that.) "I traveled to check what Locasta's been up to in the North – but didn't find her. I restored the Gillikins to flesh, and they were reunited with their friends and loved ones. But of Mombi... I don't know. I haven't seen even a trace of her in Oz ever since."

"Nor have I heard of any sightings of her in Ev," added Locasta.

"Well, then there's one less Wicked Witch to worry about!" smiled the China Princess, leaning her back against Locasta's leg. "What are you up to, then – now that you're back with us?"

"Why, I'll be going back to the North!" said the aged witch. "Shame I'll have to part with such a lovely company, ho ho! But the Gillikins need me. I'll stay for a few days at Glinda's castle, and then we'll travel together to the Emerald City and I'll return to the North, where I belong."

"Back to the Emerald City, hm?" said the China Princess. "Then say hello to the Wizard from me! And to Ozma, too! Now that I have my own people to rule, who knows when I'll see them again!"

* * *

The Wizard – no, at this moment he was just Oscar Diggs – paced around the little backroom of the Emerald City palace, surrounded by the controls of his speaking machine.

His desk was filled with papers – crude scribblings, notes, maps of the Land of Oz full of hand-drawn lines, drawings and schematics. Among them were schematics of a hot air balloon, a pump, steam-powered carriages, catapults, cannons, a system of loudspeakers...

He was just finishing writing yet another note, wrinkling his forehead in thought, when the bell in the throne room rang.

Cursing quietly, he looked into a spyglass, which, through a series of lenses and mirrors hidden in the ceiling, gave him a perfect view of the throne room – and the room just beyond it – from above.

The young Soldier with the Green Whiskers stood at the door, saluting to the giant Head lying in front of the throne.

"Why have you disturbed the Great and Terrible Oz, Din Gior?" the Wizard yelled into the loudspeaker, and his voice was amplified, thundering though the throne room.

"Glinda, the Good Witch of the South, wishes to see you, o Great Wizard," reported the Soldier, his face turning pale.

"Let her in – and leave us."

Just as the door hastily locked behind Glinda, the Wizard came out from behind the green curtain. Approaching the Witch, he embraced her, laying his hands on her shoulders.

"I'm back," smiled Glinda.

"You're most timely, my dear," Oz smiled back. "Locasta and I have just finished discussing new strategy against the Wicked Witch of the West. She left only an hour ago, and now nobody will disturb us."

"Wait... Locasta? But she didn't even visit you – she was with me the whole time! We just parted shortly ago."

"What are you talking about?" The Wizard blinked and raised an eyebrow. "Locasta stayed in the palace for the last week."

The two exchanged glances.

"One of them must have be a fake!" exclaimed Glinda. "And it definitely isn't _my_ Locasta, or I'd know it!"

Suddenly her face changed – into an expression of horror.

"A shapeshifter? Here? I must see Ozma!"

Breaking the hug, Glinda ran through one of the side doors. Moments later, her scream of "No!" from behind the wall reached Oz. He ran after her, through the narrow corridor, into the child's room...

And froze.

Glinda stood at the entrance of an empty room. Toys and decorations were haphazardly thrown over the floor, and the window was broken. Shards of tinted green glass littered the windowsill.

Baby Ozma was nowhere to be found.

"You... you..." Glinda slowly turned to the Wizard, her face flushing in anger. "You promised me to watch over her! To never leave her unguarded!"

For a moment, Oz feared that the Good Witch would unleash all hell upon him – he never saw her so furious before, not even when facing her wicked sisters. _Theodora!_ the thought suddenly flashed in his mind. _It's happening again! __And once again – because of me!_

But instead of raising her voice, Glinda unclenched her fists – and sighed, looking down.

"At least I still have my magic picture," she said quietly. "Let's see where our intruder took Ozma. Perhaps we can still return her."

Glinda waved her wand, and a bubble carrying the enchanted painting flew up from her carriage on the street below, and through the broken window.

She touched the canvas...

For a few seconds, which felt like an eternity to the Wizard, the picture showed nothing but shifting grey clouds, like in a dense fog – of the kind Glinda liked to conjure.

Then he caught a momentary glimpse of a clearer picture. A fireplace, burning away a tiny fancy emerald-green dress that he recognized as Ozma's...

Then – nothing.

The vision faded, and only the clouds remained, swirling around the center of the canvas that reminded Oz of a tornado. Uncomfortable memories of the times when he, a failed stage magician, was swept to this land away from Kansas.

_And all I've done since then... has only brought someone pain._

"I... I don't understand..." said Glinda, staring blankly at the picture.

_I'm so dead, _thought Oz.

"Ozma is alive, otherwise the view would be... different." Glinda's voice trembled. "But there's magic at work... Wicked magic, clouding my sight."

"We'll find her!" said the Wizard with fearful eyes. "You and I, together!"

"No."

That single short word by Glinda made him feel like an anvil was just dropped on his head and squashed him over the floor.

"I'll find Ozma – _alone_. You let it happen in the first place. I won't punish you, but..."

She sighed, taking a few heavy footsteps towards the broken window.

"We're done."

The pride of the Great and Terrible Oz now completely evaporated from the man's eyes and stance. He felt like on that day he had fleed from the fair in Kansas, when seemingly everything in his life had gone wrong at once. Oscar Diggs felt powerless and ashamed – again.

"But... If it's my fault... Then it falls to me to redeem myself, right?"

Glinda shook her head sadly, standing with the window at her side.

"I believe in second chances, Oscar. Not so much in third."

She opened the window frame, pushing the shards of broken glass inward, onto the floor.

"You're still a good man, I can see it... I won't forget all the good you've done. Freeing the Land of Oz, banishing the Wicked Witches, giving Theodora the chance at redemption that she deserved... And we may meet again, but not until Ozma's footsteps once again grace this palace."

Glinda lowered her eyes and stepped out of the window, waving her wand over her hand to encase herself in a floating bubble. With the words, "Farewell, Oscar," she drifted away, over the green roofs and tall trees of the city.

The lonely man from Kansas could only watch motionlessly as the bubble shrank, carrying away the woman who meant so much to him, until it collapsed into a dot and disappeared on the horizon.

He moved his hand over his head, distraught, but his palm caught his attention – and he blinked.

Between his fingers lay a single grey hair – the first of many to come.

_To be concluded..._


	7. Arrival

**7****. Arrival**

**Emerald City**

The Wizard paced through the long, empty central hallway of the palace.

He was not in a great state. In just twelve years since Glinda had left him, he aged at least as much as he should have in twice that time. His head had balded, his face wrinkled, and what little hair was left was completely grey. He even seemed to shrink a little because of his bearing: whereas he used to stand upright, he was now bent, stooping.

Twelve years! And not a sight of Ozma. He had lost Theodora once, and then he had lost what was left of her – and Glinda, too. And to add insult to injury, in the recent years, Evanora somehow returned to being a threat, again, declaring herself the ruler of the East. The frightened Munchkins, who were fleeing for the protection of the Emerald City, spoke of her wearing silver shoes, which glowed whenever she was casting a spell.

The Wizard was prepared to being assaulted by both Wicked Witches, if it came to this. He couldn't just go out and fight them, though throughout the years he had drafted plots and schemes just for that. The Emerald City lay right between the witches' domains, and he knew he couldn't win a war on two fronts. He would be prepared for a siege, even by both at once – that's why he spent all those years secretly fortifying the city, tasking his men with installing traps and defense machines that only he knew about. And he knew a regular army would only be a hindrance against witches – which was why he had sent his soldiers home.

He couldn't feel besieged forever, but after the last, disastrous attempt at fighting the Wicked Witch of the West in the field, he realized that such an attack would be hopeless without some _real_ magic at his side. Yet Glinda, it seemed, was too preoccupied with turning the entire Land of Oz upside down in search for Ozma. And Locasta, it seemed, honestly believed he was more powerful than her, having bought the "Great and Terrible Oz" persona, even when some citizens began to secretly doubt his power.

And why wouldn't they? For the last twelve years he was a recluse in the palace, only accepting very important guests – and never even allowed them to introduce themselves. They always had to go through the Soldier with the Green Whiskers, who doubled as his messenger. His old friends, the only five people in all of Oz who knew his secret, had long gone their separate ways.

He longed for some company, for understanding. Part of him longed for a return to America, where he would at least not feel the weight of his decisions born by a whole country that trusted him. He even considered revealing himself and his deceit to his people, but he couldn't. Not while there were threats – _those two_ – looming over the whole kingdom.

Plagued by these thoughts, he stopped at the entrance to little Ozma's long-abandoned room... and suddenly something caught his attention.

Through the broken window – which was, at his orders, never repaired – he saw something far on the horizon. Something that, from this far away, looked like a thin thread stretching from the swirling clouds in the sky to the land, but he would recognize it even hundreds of years after he had last seen one of these.

The Wizard rushed to his hidden backroom to grab a spyglass, then ran back to the window, focusing his eye on the horizon.

It was just as he thought...

* * *

**Quadling Country**

Glinda, in a pink evening gown, sat in a sunlit gazebo in the garden of her Red Castle, flipping through the pages of an enormous tome.

Was she too harsh to the Wizard, back twelve years ago? Perhaps. The Wizard – no, Oscar – was still dear to her in her thoughts, and it was not his fault that he lacked the insight she had, being a true witch.

A few times over the years, she considered returning to the Emerald City, supporting its lonely ruler again. But no. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't afford it. Not yet.

She was a magical guardian of Oz by birth and by call. The last one, if Locasta was so weakened by her trials in the Land of Ev. And that meant doing what was right, rather than falling victim to her emotions. Even the momentary threats of the Wicked Witches were not as important as her own quest, the vision that looked centuries ahead.

The kingdom needed a future to look forward to.

The fake Wizard, Oscar Diggs, was only an interim solution. To prosper and stand the test of time, the Land of Oz needed a truly magical ruler, a descendant of the royal family; and that ruler could only be Ozma, the little girl in whom Theodora's spirit still lived.

Theodora!.. Glinda remembered how much hope she placed in her younger sister. She was a victim of her upbringing and Evanora's foul company, but through rebirth as Ozma, she got her second chance. Ozma must have been fourteen now; she was alive, that much Glinda knew, but she was growing up away from her eyes, and the Good Witch spent all these years fruitlessly searching for her little sister. Who was raising her? Who was that shapeshifter who had posed as Locasta to abduct her from the palace? Could it be someone even worse than Evanora? There might not be a third chance...

A disturbance on the horizon, in the east, interrupted Glinda's thoughts...

* * *

**Gillikin Country**

"Ah. Enjoying your walk, Your Highness?"

As Locasta was wandering by the wide road, she turned to face the source of that question – an old, crooked woman with a cane, wearing a hooded cloak. And though the question was asked in a slightly sarcastic tone, the Good Witch of the North genuinely smiled.

"Indeed I am, dear Mombi! It's just the perfect weather to travel, isn't it? Ho ho ho! Cloudy with a chance of storms! Or really unusual rain!"

"Come to gloat over me, didn't you?" Mombi barked through her teeth.

Locasta's cheerful face suddenly turned dead serious – if only for a moment. "You know I don't. Reveling in others' fall isn't in my nature." She smiled again, leaning on her staff. "I'm glad you're reformed, Mombi, and that's all there is to it. All my people are equally dear to me, and that includes you. How's Tip, by the way?"

"Back to his old habits," said the former Wicked Witch of the North. "I swear, I've never seen a boy as disobedient as him!"

_Not that it would make him a worse weapon in my hands,_ she didn't say. _The people of the Emerald City will soon have a new ruler... a puppet with strings pulled by me!_

"Oh my, oh my! Just give him time to grow up and wisen up, ho ho! Can I see him?"

"Of course! Tip!" Mombi shouted, turning towards the door of her house. "Come out!"

The door opened to reveal a black-haired boy in a simple collared shirt – violet, like most clothes in this country – and a red cap. He was holding a crude axe.

"Say good evening to our ruler!" said Mombi.

"Good evening, Your Highness!" said Tip, taking his cap off and bowing to Locasta in a way so goofy in its seriousness that even Mombi sported a small smile.

"Careful, young boy!" said Locasta. "Your hair just keeps getting longer! Grow it any more than that, and you'll look like a girl!"

"And I told him that!" complained Mombi. "But he just says it's the only way that feels right for him. Such a naughty youth, isn't he?"

Tip, feeling his presence was no longer required, returned to his own room.

_Like a girl, huh._

He stood in front of a mirror, moving his fingers over his jaw. He felt a small roughness just under his chin and looked at it.

Indeed: being fourteen, he was hitting puberty. There was short, barely visible stubble there – only a few rare hairs so far, but it was there. In just a couple of years he would grow a beard, and maybe even a moustache, like some of his older friends. And his voice would break soon enough; he would sound like a real man.

But why did it feel so wrong?

Why did his whole body feel so wrong?..

Sometimes he caught himself on the thought that his hips were too narrow for his liking; at other times he moved his hand across his chest while falling asleep, as if expecting something to be there.

He didn't have a chance to continue this train of thought right now, though. "Look! Over there!" he heard Mombi exclaim outside the house. He ran out to see what could possibly get her attention – she wasn't the type to be surprised by anything.

And indeed, the ex-witch was quite right to be alarmed. Under the darkened sky behind the hills, on the border with the Munchkin Country, he saw...

* * *

**Winkie Country**

"...And I would like to remind you, Your Horror," said Finley, holding a long scroll as he flew, "that, bound as I may be by the letter of the contract, Article 5 Paragraph 3 clearly states that I am not obligated, and even forbidden, to act against a person to whom I owe a life debt. Or in layman's terms, while I will fight the citizens of the Emerald City – much as I am disturbed by the thought of doing them harm – I will not attempt any action against the Wizard himself."

"Shut up!"

The Wicked Witch of the West, who had long abandoned the name Theodora, waved her broom in front of the Winged Monkey's face.

"You're expendable – you and all the rest of your worthless race! If you don't do what you're told, there are plenty of others who will!"

She walked up the stairs of her watchtower, to the highest point of her gloomy castle of crude stone. Taking off her pointed hat for a moment, marveling the Golden Cap that sat on her head under it, she stopped in front of a crystal ball – of the same kind that Evanora once had installed in the Royal Palace of Oz.

"My sister and I have almost completed our preparations. Get ready! Soon I will use the Cap for the third and last time – and you, my winged army, will conquer the Emerald City in my name!"

The Witch circled her green hand over the still surface of the sphere, and it lit up, forming an image. She drew her head forward, looking closer...

"Ah, I see you, Evanora, my dear! Just give me a sign – as we agreed, and then we will strike togeth– Wait... What is it... behind you?!"

* * *

**Munchkin Country**

Evanora grinned maniacally, walking along the Yellow Brick Road on a day when the sky was covered with dense, ominous grey clouds.

Her revenge was nearing completion. Soon, she would unleash the raw powers of nature itself against the Emerald City. She spent far too long as a lonely, powerless outcast, mocked and despised by those who used to fear her.

The Wizard of Oz would soon fall – with the help of her sister and, of course, her own newfound power. The Silver Shoes of Gingema. The last and most elusive possession of the previous Wicked Witch of the East.

When she passed by country houses, the Munchkins hid behind their doors and cowered in fear, crying, and she could hear the sad ringing of the bells on their hats even from inside their houses. For just a moment, she stopped, savoring this sight.

Only then she realized that they were not hiding from her – but rather, from what was behind her – when a strong gust of wind suddenly caught up with her, tearing straw off roofs and hats off the heads of some Munchkins who hadn't yet managed to hide.

Evanora turned around.

A tornado was rapidly approaching her, coming over the vast field to the side of the Road, sucking dust and dirt into the funnel.

She stood still.

She wasn't afraid of this silly little storm – why would she be? She was a witch; nature obeyed her, and winds especially so.

Clapping the heels of her Silver Shoes three times, she raised her arms, stretching them towards the tornado, and spoke a rapid, unintelligible incantation.

The powerful wind stopped at once, and the leaves and grass swept over the Road immediately settled over it. The dust forming the cyclone itself also stopped spinning, and the funnel quickly began to lose its shape, dissolving into the air as the random debris fell towards the ground.

Yet a split second later, Evanora, in her moment of triumph, noticed, with the corner of her eye, something large heading towards her from above.

She looked up.

What's that? A small farmhouse, falling right ov–

_Boom._

A dust cloud rose from the ground, and when it cleared, there was, indeed, a small farmhouse standing – shaken by the rough fall, but still intact – over where the Wicked Witch just was. Only her feet stuck out from under the house, still with the Silver Shoes on.

For that night, the house stood undisturbed. Though the Munchkins walked around it, eyeing it curiously, none of them dared to approach it close, let alone look inside it.

Finally, early at dawn, the sky cleared, and the first rays of the morning sun shone through the windows of the house. Its creaky wooden door opened from the inside, and a young girl and a small black dog walked out onto the doorstep. The girl had two pigtails and wore a strange spotted blue dress, of a fashion unknown in the Land of Oz.

Casting a look over her surroundings, with eyes full of awe, she turned to the dog, saying:

"Toto, I've a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore."

_The End._


	8. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

The Wizard went silent – and looked at the faces of his diverse audience.

Princess Ozma was sitting in the center of this strange company, leaning on her throne – the throne that was once his. But he didn't miss it. In this girl, in her pubescent cuteness, he saw a younger version of Theodora, with her long black hair and her wide, expressive eyes, and facial features so sharp they almost seemed drawn on. He caught himself on the thought that it was strange for him, even somewhat disturbing, to compare this girl, whom he had seen and raised as an infant, to an adult woman who was, by now, only a flicker in his memory.

Dorothy, the girl who did in a few days what he couldn't do in years, sat at the foot of the throne, on the edge of Ozma's incredibly long dress. She was surrounded by her three friends, the three beings whose wishes she had once granted – with his help, no less.

Professor Wogglebug sat behind the throne, near the curtain that once held the Wizard's machinery controls behind it. The curtain was now rolled up and the machines removed, replaced with a library stand. Moving his thin, curled whisker-like ears, the Professor was writing in a large notebook the whole time the Wizard was narrating.

And in the other corner behind the throne sat the two Good Witches, Glinda and Locasta. Oz noticed that during his tale, they kept whispering something to each other, looking either at him or Ozma and smiling.

"Well..." said Ozma at last, breaking the silence. "This tale does shed light on many things that were formerly unclear to me. Though it means that history books will have to be amended yet again."

"Ah, but such is the nature of history, Your Highness!" grinned the Wogglebug, raising his head. "This is precisely why I leave broad margins and blank pages in my books. For all we know, tomorrow some adventurer may stumble upon discoveries that will completely overturn historical science as we know it!"

"You have to understand that after Princess Dorothy made you... reveal yourself," continued Ozma, "the citizens were understandably feeling quite betrayed by this discovery. Rumors started floating that you were actually in league with the Wicked Witches, that they schemed to make you stay in power. Even my kidnapping, which the official story held as an accident... Well, there was talk that you may have played an active role in it."

"And I didn't even know," added the Scarecrow. "I was so new to the world and knew so little. I didn't even know that there _was _a Princess Ozma, much less what happened to her."

"Thus, naturally," continued Ozma, "as I was, at that time, Mombi's farmboy..."

Dorothy snickered.

"...I knew little, never even been to the Emerald City before, and all I knew about the Wizard of Oz came from hearsay. I was unfair in my judgment of you before, prior to your return to our land and hearing the true story. And for that, I must sincerely apologize."

_Where did she learn to talk like that?_ thought Oz. _She's been princess for, what, a few months?_

"So this will be my royal verdict."

Ozma rose from her throne, caressing the middle plank of the letter Z in her scepter.

"Oscar Diggs, you came to our land in its darkest hour. It is thanks to you that the kingdom has survived and the royal bloodline has been restored. You liberated the Emerald City with cunning where both might and magic failed. You ruled the Land of Oz for twenty years, and, from what I know, ruled it fairly and humbly. You protected my friend Dorothy in her underground travels, and brought her back here, alive and well. And last but not least... you gave a corrupted princess a second chance at life. A chance I'll use well."

She smiled, looking fondly over her unusual court – or perhaps, circle of friends would be a better word.

"I have no memories of being this Theodora, but I'll try not to repeat her mistakes. The people of Oz will hear the true story of your deeds – not one that portrays you as a malicious usurper. And you will not have to worry anymore about being a humbug. Glinda will take you as her apprentice in the arts of magic, so that you will be a Wizard in fact, not merely in name."

"What?!"

Glinda turned in her seat, looking at Ozma in surprise – and perhaps agitation. "You... actually expect me to agree? As if the kingdom hasn't had enough trouble with – "

"I know what I'm doing," Ozma smiled calmly, sitting down. "He has proven his worth, and I trust him to be responsible with magic. Those who don't learn from history are doomed to repeat it – and history teaches me that peace is fragile, and a new threat may come for my people from where we least expect. Evanora's coup – and my own experiences from Jinjur's rebellion – tell me we need to be prepared, and the Wizard has valuable knowledge from the outside world that no Ozian has – and he needs something to back his ingenuity, something with more substance than parlor tricks."

"I'll make an exception, then," Glinda said reluctantly. "But only for him, and only because I've known him for so long. Don't turn it into a habit... Your Highness."

She rose and started walking towards the exit from the throne room, motioning for Oz to follow her.

"With your permission," she said, turning to Ozma, "I'll take my apprentice to my chambers to explain what is required of him."

The Princess nodded silently.

When they reached the doorway, Oz took Glinda's hand, looking back at those they left behind. It seemed that Ozma and company almost immediately switched to other matters as soon as the two of them walked away. Dorothy was telling something to Locasta, patting the mane of the Lion Formerly Known as the Cowardly Lion, and the elderly Witch was giggling, as she often did, adjusting her conic hat. The Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman were having a heated argument about something – probably about the same old topic, brains versus heart. Ozma, meanwhile, turned around to look at the Magic Picture – the same one that was once used to keep track of her as a baby – which now hung above her throne.

"Feisty girl, eh?" smiled the Wizard.

"That's to be expected," said Glinda. "In a way, she's still the same old Theodora. Only..."

"Only she's different," concluded Oz. "What, you're worried she'll prove too difficult to control?"

"Control? Oscar, please," said the Witch. "I'm a guardian, not a politician."

"So you say. I've known you long enough to know better."

"Oscar, honestly... the Quadling Country alone gives me enough trouble as it is. I'm just glad there's finally someone to take over – and besides, if I really wanted to keep her on a leash..."

She gestured at the Magic Picture.

"You no doubt have noticed."

"That I did," said Oz. "It's like you're tempting her with power. The Picture, the Belt... you even dug up the Forbidden Fountain, for crying out loud! You don't trust _yourself_ to be responsible with these things! Why her?"

"I'm testing her," Glinda said calmly, matter-of-factly.

"What?"

"I need to know. I need to be absolutely sure that the future of Oz lies in the right hands. I'm tempting Ozma with power. Someone like Evanora – or even the Theodora I knew – would have already abused it. But Ozma uses her artifacts very sparingly and only for the benefit of her people – and her friends. And I can see why."

She leaned her back against the wall, looking at the Princess on her throne.

"Theodora grew up pampered and spoiled – partly my fault. Ozma has known misery. She knows how to tell good from evil. And most importantly, she's not alone. She has the right friends. Friends to teach her about the virtues of a good ruler..."

She moved her eyes to look at the Scarecrow. "Wisdom..."

Then at the Tin Woodman. "Love..."

Then at the Lion. "Courage..."

And finally, at Dorothy. "Loyalty and humility. She'll go far."

"Oh, I don't doubt that," said the Wizard. "Young Ozma has a lot of adventures ahead of her... And Dorothy too. I don't think these two are just going to be content sitting in the palace day by day!"

"Not by what I've seen," said Glinda. "Well, let the kids have their fun while they're young."

"And I'm not complaining," smiled Oz. "Dorothy and Ozma won't let each other down. They're good friends."

He paused for a little.

"Friends..."

He rubbed the baldness on his head.

"Maybe that's why I was in such a hurry to leave. Loneliness. I spent so many years in the palace alone, unable to even show my face... I felt like I had nothing to lose here in Oz. Though I'd find myself again back in America. Well... _that _turned out real well, didn't it. And now it's come full circle – back in Oz, still alone."

Glinda smiled and shook her head, taking Oz's hand between her hands. "You have me."

"Well, true... but... everyone else..."

"Come with me," the Witch said quietly. "You'll see. I've arranged everything."

The two walked down the long, wide stair to the palace entrance, past busy servants sweeping the floors and watering the plants, past rows of guards In tightly-fit green uniforms. The last one, at the front gate, was Captain-General Din Gior; and though he had long shaved off his green whiskers, he was still the same devoted army man the Wizard knew. He saluted to them and pushed a lever to open the front gate.

Glinda and Oz stepped down onto the crowded, busy central square of the Emerald City.

Of all the carriages driving by, the Wizard instantly spotted one that looked surprisingly familiar. It looked a little worn, but still very recognizable.

"Sourpuss!" he exclaimed in surprise, waving to the short man in a hat sitting in the driver's seat.

"My name is Knuck!" said the driver, so properly that it seemed comical, sporting a kind smile. Time has been kinder to Knuck than the Wizard; he barely looked any older than twenty years ago, only his beard was now almost completely white.

"Ah, it never gets old!" Oz said with satisfaction. "Well, no more balloons, darlings – this time I'm here to stay! I almost feel young again! The only thing that could be better is if – "

Suddenly, the carriage's door opened, and Finley stepped out, holding it like a trained butler.

"Welcome back, boss!"

"How..." Oz moved his eyes from Finley to Glinda, and back to the monkey. "Wow! I never hoped to see you again! But how... the Wicked Witch... the Golden Cap..."

"Dorothy brought it to me," said Glinda. "And I gave it to the Winged Monkeys, so that they would be free from their oath of servitude."

"Except to you, of course," said Finley, nodding. "Though I presume I'm now free from the particular oath to conceal the fact that you're not a real wizard, considering that you... well... revealed it to everyone anyway."

"Oh, that's going to change soon," said Glinda. "By Her Highness' orders, I'll be teaching Oz the art of wizardry – and I have no doubt he'll be an able learner."

"Oh! Oh!" exclaimed the China Princess, revealing herself as well – by pulling away a curtain hanging over the carriage's window. "So no more pretending, then? You will soon really become Oz the Great and Terrible? Fantastic!"

"Hopefully not terrible – in either sense," the Wizard chuckled. "And I've been great, haven't I?"

He climbed into the carriage, pulling Glinda in to sit down next to him. Finley closed the door, and the China Princess crawled into Oz's lap, holding tight to his side.

"I've been a great man. I fulfilled my dream. I led the life of a king, I had all the wealth and power I wanted... and then I discovered it wasn't what I wanted all along. But by then, it was too late to go back."

He hugged Glinda behind her shoulders, casting one last look out of the window at the palace – secure in the knowledge that Ozma and Dorothy were happy and safe together, behind those walls.

"I'm just glad it all turned the way it did. All's well that ends well, right?" Oz winked.

"Quite so!" said Knuck, raising his cane up. "Where now, milady?" he asked, turning his head to Glinda.

"The Red Castle, of course!"

"Ah, but I heard the main road to Quadling Country has become quite dangerous lately," said Knuck. "We may be better off traveling in those bubbles."

"Just charge ahead!" said the Wizard, leaning back with a carefree expression. "Danger's the thrill of it, and there's nothing we can't handle together!"

These words were met with cheers from Finley and the China Princess, while Glinda just smiled enigmatically, with one half of her mouth, looking out of her side window.

The carriage started, and soon enough, drove to the edge of the city, where Faramant, the ever so vigilant Guardian of the Gates, met the familiar travelers with a wave and a bow. And for a long time the stubby man followed the carriage with his eyes, as it carried his former master further and further south, towards Glinda's domain, until it completely disappeared on the horizon.

* * *

_Yes, dear readers, I'm afraid this is it – the true end, for real this time! I hope those of you who have made it this far have enjoyed the story. As for me – I look back at it and see how I could have done it better with the benefit of hindsight and time to polish it, but that's me. That's how I always think._

_I'm going to post one more "chapter" – a fully behind-the-scenes one, for those who felt confused by all those references to Baum's books. Hopefully, for those who haven't read the books, this story might as well provide an incentive to do so – there's much to discover there!_


	9. Endnotes

**ENDNOTES**

Okay, I know this is technically against the site rules. But people had questions, so I thought the best place to answer them would be an author's notes section after the last chapter. Hopefully it will survive at least long enough for the usual readers to read!

This story was conceived to answer some questions I had at the end of the movie, concerning the lack of characters who logically _should_ have been at least mentioned – presumably to avoid confusing viewers only familiar with the 1939 movie – but most importantly, to answer one question: in the light of Theodora's story, how could the Wizard send Dorothy to kill the Wicked Witch of the West in cold blood?

Different fanfic writers have answered this question differently; in particular, I recommend readers to also check out DhampyrX2's _The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, _which takes the Theodora/Wicked Witch plot in a different but very interesting direction.

My solution came to me when I was thinking how Ozma, one of the main characters in Baum's Oz book series, could possibly fit into the story told by _OTGAP_, and saw the poster with Theodora in her red adventure outfit. And something clicked in my brain.

So, the ultimate goal of the story was to set up the stage for Baum's books, which – alas! – is different from the usual goal of a story, namely, _telling a story_. This explains its sketchy, timeskip-laden nature, for which I apologize.

* * *

**Continuity: Chapter 1**

The Golden Cap is from Baum's first book, _The Wonderful Wizard of Oz._ It was not in the 1939 movie. The Wicked Witch of the West used it three times to command the Winged Monkeys: once to take over the Winkie Country (in backstory), once to repeal the Wizard (also in backstory), and once to defeat Dorothy and her friends (in the actual book). It is this second use that we see here, in this chapter, though the Wizard's motivation for fighting her in the first place turns out to be different.

* * *

**Continuity: Chapter 2**

This chapter tries to unite together various sketchy and contradictory backstories that are given in different books and the movie as well.

Pastoria is the book name of the former King of Oz overthrown by the Wicked Witches. The books are somewhat confused about whether he's Ozma's father or grandfather, so in this story he's a bit of both – or neither, depending on how you see it.

Lurline, in the books, is the fairy queen who originally enchanted Oz to be a magic land. She's not related to Pastoria, belongs to a different and much earlier time period, and provides a second, contradictory origin story for Ozma. Yes, it's a continuity headache. Here, I tried to _somewhat _reconcile the two origins while also explaining what happened to the Witches' mother, at the cost of playing _really _loose with source material.

The main problem to work around is that the movie made the witches the late king's daughters, which was not in the books. While it justifies Theodora's claim to the throne, and her plea to Oscar to make her his queen, it doesn't explain why Glinda doesn't claim the throne herself. It isn't a problem if you consider only the movie by itself, but it's a problem for things to come. So my story provides a justification of sorts – both for Glinda and for Locasta.

Mombi, the former Wicked Witch of the North, is the main antagonist of Baum's second book, _The Marvelous Land of Oz._

Locasta... okay, this is a bit complicated. In the first book, there are two Good Witches. The Good Witch of the North is the one who visits Dorothy in Munchkin Country and directs her to the Wizard (apparently not knowing that he is a fake). Glinda, the Good Witch of the South, appears near the end as the ruler of Quadling Country and tells Dorothy how to use the Silver Shoes to return home. The 1939 movie merged them into a single character: Glinda, the Good Witch of the North.

In _OTGAP_, Glinda is the Good Witch of the _South_, like in the book, while the Good Witch of the North is... conveniently never mentioned. I presume it was done to avoid complicating matters, but that meant I had to explain where she was during the events of _OTGAP_. She's not named in Baum's books, and doesn't even appear after the first one apart from a brief cameo in _The Road to Oz_. Baum, however, named her Locasta in the musical version, so I went with that.

There are also some retcons here to better line up with the movie, for example concerning the nature of aging and death in Oz, but also the identities of the Wicked Witches. Most importantly, in my version, Evanora and Theodora are not the _originai_ Wicked Witches of the East and West, respectively. In the fourth book, _Dorothy and the Wizard in Oz_, Ozma explains to the Wizard that the Land of Oz was once divided between four Wicked Witches, who banded together to depose the king – but by the time the Wizard arrived, Glinda and the Good Witch of the North had overthrown the Wicked Witch of the South and Mombi, respectively. This is what happens in my backstory too, but it's not the _whole _backstory.

* * *

**Continuity: Chapter 3**

I give the name Gingema here for the previous Wicked Witch of the East, killed by Evanora. The name comes from Alexander Volkov's _The Wizard of the Emerald City_, a Russian adaptation in which Gingema is the Wicked Witch killed by Ellie's (Dorothy's) house.

Glinda's supposedly lie-detecting necklace is from _The Marvelous Land of Oz_; she uses it to force Mombi to tell the truth. I saw that as morally problematic by modern standards, so in my version it's just bluff.

* * *

**Continuity: Chapter 4**

The Water of Oblivion is...

Okay, the Water of Oblivion is probably the most gross, morally repugnant, story-killing and overall appalling plot device ever introduced by Baum – in his usual fashion, as a deus ex machina to solve the problem of the week in the sixth book, _The Emerald City of Oz_.

In that book, Glinda says she created it hundreds of years ago to depose a wicked King of Oz. It didn't make sense given Glinda's backstory in _OTGAP,_ so I gave her a different motivation for creating it.

In my opinion, it's best quietly forgotten by spin-off writers, along with the other three story-killing deus ex machina plot devices: the Magic Belt, the Magic Picture and the Book of Records. (Note that when Baum doesn't want the plot to be resolved in two seconds in _The Lost Princess of _Oz, he makes these unavailable – for a reason!) The only reason I introduce it in the first place is because it serves a story purpose, and the out-of-universe reason I made it hidden is to explain why Evanora didn't use it in the movie.

In hindsight, I created a continuity error: in the book where it's introduced, Dorothy guesses that it's the fountain she saw on palace grounds along the way when going to visit the Wizard for the first time, while in this version it stays hidden _at least_ until Ozma takes the throne. I'm not correcting it, because seriously, _what?_ The Wizard had such a powerful artifact in his palace (which is supposed to have been built by him in the books...) and not only never mentioned it before, but _left it in open display_ with little more than a vague "do not touch" warning label? And Dorothy manages to recite the warning from memory despite only seeing it for a few seconds who knows how many months ago? None of that makes sense, even by Oz standards.

* * *

**Continuity: Chapter 5**

China Country is not actually _OTGAP_'s invention: it comes from the first book, but was omitted from the 1939 movie. The other little enclaves of Quadling Country (Bunnybury and Utensia) are from _The Emerald City of Oz_.

The China Girl from the movie is, in this chapter, established to be the same character as the China Princess whom Dorothy meets in the book. However, in the book, it is said the china people would become mute, inanimate dolls if taken out of their country. The movie contradicts that, and I think it's for the best – it's just too gruesome.

The Master Tinker is implied to be the future creator of the Tin Woodman, which is a popular fan theory.

The alternate names Locasta lists for herself are names given to the Good Witch of the North by writers other than Baum.

The Magic Picture was originally introduced in Baum's third book, _Ozma of Oz_, as means for Ozma to look after Dorothy when she's out of Oz, and save her when she falls in trouble. Later it became a magical spying cam that could show anyone and anything. Yay, Big Brother is watching you! To avoid dissonance with modern moral standards, I placed an important limitation on it here.

It is also explained here why the Royal Army of Oz consists of exactly one person in the first two books. Faramant and Din Gior are names given to the Guardian of the Gates and the Soldier with the Green Whiskers, respectively, in Volkov's Russian version. I don't mention here if the green glasses exist in this continuity, but I imagine they don't: there's no need for them, as the Emerald City predates the Wizard and is actually green without the need for deception.

* * *

**Continuity: Chapter 6**

Locasta and Mombi's adventures here are made up by me, and their sole purpose is to remove them from Oz for the movie's timeframe.

The Land of Ev is from the third book, _Ozma of Oz, _which also explains what happened to King Evoldo and his family (hint: it's not a nice fate), and what is that place where Mombi disappeared in the mountains (hint: it's nowhere good).

Ozma's disappearance is portrayed differently here than in the books. In _The Marvelous Land of Oz_, Mombi claims that the Wizard paid her three visits and _deliberately_ gave her baby Ozma, so she could hide the true heir who could one day pose a threat to his rule. This was written before Baum revised his characterization of the Wizard to be more like what we see in the movie, so I have no qualms about contradicting it – the Wizard of _OTGAP _and the later books would never do something so despicable!

* * *

**Continuity: Chapter 7**

Tippetarius "Tip" is the protagonist of the second book, _The Marvelous Land of Oz_ – the same one that introduces Mombi. In the end, he learns that he's actually Princess Ozma, whom Mombi turned into a boy as an infant. Ozma is then restored to her real form and takes the throne.

A reader has asked me why Locasta doesn't recognize Tip as Ozma here, considering she knows what Theodora looked like. The reason is simple: Glinda didn't recognize him in the book either; she was just as surprised as everyone when Mombi revealed who Tip really was. I imagine they look sufficiently different that the thought just wouldn't cross Locasta's or Glinda's mind; you'd have to have sufficient evidence to even _suspect_ such an enchantment in the first place!

* * *

**Continuity: Epilogue**

Professor H.M. Wogglebug T.E. is also from the second book, _The Marvelous Land of Oz._

Chronologically, the epilogue takes place during the fourth book _Dorothy and the Wizard in Oz_, in which, well, Dorothy and the Wizard return to Oz after leaving it in the first book – and the Wizard, this time, is there to stay.

One thing this epilogue does – something that got a reader confused, for which I, again, apologize – is establish an in-universe reason why the Wizard was regarded as more of a villain, usurper figure in the backstory of the second book, compared to all the other books. Twenty years is a long time, his secretiveness didn't work in his favor, and when he revealed his deception to the people of the Emerald City, I don't think they would be particularly thrilled by the discovery, and could have even felt betrayed and started spreading rumors about him. And someone like Tip/Ozma, who grew up in a rural part of the country, would be especially susceptible to hearsay.

* * *

So where now?

Well.. I'm probably done with Oz for the time being. I do have some story ideas, but ideas are cheap – and they wouldn't be connected to the movie, anyway.

Pairing Polychrome with a cynical, misanthropic water nymph, as a sort of comedic duo.

Exploring Ozma's gender identity. It's been done already, though.

"Trials of the Princess" – In which Ozma, having been freshly disenchanted from being Tip, has to prove her worth in tests of character before she can ascend to the throne.

But I doubt I'll get to writing more Oz stories. There isn't much of a "demand" for them, especially if they don't involve Dorothy and company. I feel like the themes I want to explore would best be raised in original fiction.


End file.
